Passion Of The Christ 2
by moonscraper
Summary: The forces of Awesome and Marvel gather themselves in preparation for the end of days. Tifa journeys to the limits of imagination while Chuck Norris and Jeremiah join forces in a desperate gambit for power. Expect brutal violence and great depravity.
1. Chapter 1

Passion of The Christ II: This Time She Won't Get Nailed

Oh, dear readers, dry your eyes and turn towards your screens, for the time has come. Too much time has passed since the conclusion of _The Essence of What Is Awesome_ and the discover y that Tifa Lockhart was the second coming of Jesus Christ, codenamed T. ULTRACHRIST. We now begin the second part of the saga, concerning the pilgrimage of T. Ultrachrist, her pursuit by Chuck Norris and the various worlds and persons that become part of their epic struggle of Blakeian passion versus Platonic thought.

We shall begin with a brief Eugene O'Neil-esque _Interlude Out of Time_ so that we might review the key players in our pornographic and deadly farce.

*Tifa Lockhart has been contacted by the poet William Blake, has become T. Ultrachrist and now travels throughout time seeking to create religious and political revolution. A disciple of the powers of AWESEOME

*Cloud Strife, once a Jew and now dead, experienced much pain and suffering from the index finger of a talented nymphet before dedicating himself to abducting, murdering (in a most unique way) and raping young women. He was murdered by Chief Inspector Richard J. Dawson's magic sledgehammer and instrumental in the creation of what is to be known as The Big Door, a portal that connects every universe and resides in the remains of Columbus, Ohio.

*Chuck Norris is an agent of Heaven (and a disciple of the powers of MARVEL.) He recently descended from Heaven, murdered Zell Dincht and Rinoa Heartilly, and now is in search of T. Ultrachrist. He carried a gigantic, golden robotic arm and a greasy chainsaw in his "bag of plenty."

*Vincent Valentine, now known as Jeremiah, is a born-again Christian and fond of both the flesh of a horse and crucifixions. He also enjoys dropping trow and shitting of the faces of victims.

*Yuffie Kisargi, after being sexually imprisoned by Cid Highwind in the Polar Palace of Sexual Amusement, was crucified by Jeremiah. She never got All Creation.

*Cid Highwind was killed by Jeremiah's reserve battle axe while smoking a clove cigarette.

*Cait-Sith recently injected his brain with poisoned heroin and died screaming about Kieran Culkin. Considering his rather brutal sexual practices and habit of robbing coroner's offices, this is a good thing.

(And if you think I'm joking about having written these things in the prequel, think again. Remember, dear readers, I was just bored.)

**PART I. FRANZ KAFKA AND THE OVEN OF LOVE**.

**Chapter I. Motel pillows are S-T-I-C-K-Y**

'Especially when covered in the semen of large black man-whores 'thought T. Ultrachrist as she attempted to find a dry place to lay her head. Since moving to Los Angles and discovering her true nature T. Ultrachrist has also learned another thing: she, like Lady Gaga, loved big black cock. Preferably over fifteen inches and driven into her like a nail into balsa wood.

_In fact just thinking about it made her jaw hang open slightly and spit puddle on her breasts until they were sopping wet_.

'Well!' thought T. Ultrachrist 'this is no way to start the day, especially when there is simply so much to do!' For today was a special day! A very special day indeed! T. Ultrachrist was going to meet with William Blake at a bar downtown and receive her first assignment as an agent of Awesome. T. Ultrachrist had not seen William Blake since he freed her from the ox fuck-fest engineered by her former husband Jerome in Deling City. T. Ultrachrist, then simply Tifa, had been covered in generic label mayonnaise, mustard, black paint and Jerome's shit when William Blake had summoned a gigantic robin from a tome of romanticism that had consumed Jerome. It was quite a sight.

And now, a year or so later, T. Ultrachrist rose from her bed of black cum and showered briefly before donning a pair of dyke overalls, filthy mountain-man boots and an oiled leather shirt. Taking a brief swig from a bottle of sweet vermouth (though God knows it tasted like parched asshole), she cleaned her motel room a bit and left to catch a bus into San Fernando Valley. She looked quickly at her calendar in the bus station and saw it was March 2nd, 1991. 'Hmm' though T. Ultrachrist as the bus pulled up. She sat down next to a woman with vibrant blue hair and noticed that several police cards and a helicopter had just moved past in pursuit of a car holding three individuals. 'Oh well' thought T. Ultrachrist. She leaned over to the blue-haired woman.

"What do you do for a living?" asked T. Ultrachrist with a smile on her face. The blue-haired woman slowly turned, unsmiling, and raised an eyebrow.

"I periodically turn into a flying purple she-beast." T. Ultachrist was stunned, but intrigued.

"I am the reincarnation of Jesus Christ. Really." The blue-haired woman threw her head back and laughed like a dirty hyena. The effect made everyone on the bus cry and bleed. "Would you like to come and meet the celebrated Romantic poet William Blake at a dive bar down the road?" continued T. Ultrachrist.

"Are you asking me out?" said the blue-haired woman. T. Ultrachrist smiled. She knew the answer to this question.

"I have a bed covered in the semen of several adult black men." There was a noticeable pause. Then the blue-haired woman nodded and gave a thumbs-up sign.

"My name is Terra Branford" said the blue-haired woman "but you can call me Mom."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter II. In which Chuck Norris makes a friend.**

After killing literally everyone in the city of Timber, driving a greasy, rattling chainsaw into Rinoa's face and, as per his fettish, covering his penis with her lavender brains, Marvel Agent Chuck Norris was about ready to move on to greener pastures. He had been given two special universal positioning devices by the Almighty, one of which told Norris that he was in the Final Fantasy VIII universe and that, while Rinoa had simply been an unimaginative look-a-like created by the Gods known as Squaresoft ™, a Tifa Lockhart had, until recently, resided in the not-too-distant Deling City.

So after cleaning his man-meat, Chuck Norris walked to the local liquor store, a place frequented by the one-time rebellious group The Timber Owls, and stepping through the shattered storefront (he had broken some minutes earlier) and pushing aside the broken remains of the store's proprietor, he snatched up a bottle of Diesel. Chuck Norris believed it best not to cut corners when it came to anything, especially drinking heavily, and he upended the bottle into his anus. The effect was immediate and powerful, and good ole' Chucky suddenly found himself to be fucking wasted. He staggered into the main drag of Timber, now covered in the bodies of the slain, and climbed into the driver's seat of his stolen Winnebago. Putting the massive machine in gear, he slowly drove out of the city, though he became slightly nauseous due to the constant bucking motion made by the Winnebago as it went over innumerable small bumps.

What Chuck Norris didn't know is that he was being watched by a lieutenant of the ROG, (Remnants of Galbadia, an extremist right-wing organization publically led by the resuscitated corpse of James Garfield) a man named Mr. Yee. Mr. Yee had a small penis (only 3 centimeters when fully erect) and a sleek, auburn cat, but he had no sense of humor. Mr. Yee had been mocked so many times by everyone he knew (his father, mother, wife, lover, son, and doctor included) that he had been driven quite insane. He now collected the penises of famous men and, given his rank in the ROG, was permitted to do this during normal work hours. The ROG had no real agenda outside of murdering the primary characters of FVIII, so it was pretty much anyone's ballgame when it came to the abuse of power.

Which brings us back to Mr. Yee and his odd habit of cock collecting. He loved to stuff them (ala a taxidermist) and hang them on the walls of his private study (which was a hole behind a secret bookshelf in his study.) Sometimes he would put them in his mouth or his butthole, but usually he just looked at them and imagined that all of these famous dicks were his own and that he could actually penetrate his wife. As things stood now he had to bop upon his petite bologna and attempt to fire his semen into his wife's vagina. There was no real point in physical contact since insertion just wasn't possible. In fact, Mrs. Yee, who looked just a bit like Madeline Albright, had, on one memorable night of sexual displeasure, said that Mr. Yee was incapable of normal orgasm and that all he could do was simply "Yeegasm." And this had driven Mr. Yee slowly around the bend until he was as crazy as an old, syphilitic fox.

So as Chuck Norris drunkenly weaved his way out of Timber, Mr. Yee climbed aboard his Faggio ™ scooter and, listening to generic Latin Loops, sped after him. Mr. Yee had every intention of capturing Chuck Norris and taking his famous penis, so he began to summon THE TONBERRY KING, which was a powerful and irritating GF/Summon/Esper. Chuck Norris never saw it coming. One minute he was imagining plowing Miley Cyrus and the next a giant lizard-man with a lantern and a chef's knife appeared in front of him on the road. The Winnebago was sheared in half and went flying onto either side of the road. Chuck Norris, however, was unhurt, though very drunk.

THE TONBERRY KING began to walk very slowly toward Chuck Norris (moving in a grid-like sort of pattern.) Chuck Norris was fascinated and forgot that these Tonberry fuckers are not to be trusted. Mr. Yee watched in delight at the THE TONBERRY KING approached Norris, anticipating the moment in which Norris realized he should have pressed the bumper buttons on the controller of his life and attempted to run away. But that moment never came.

"TOUCH HIM NOT" screamed a man as he dropped from a passing cumulonimbus cloud. A freakish mass of man, metal and Jesus' love fell before Norris. It held in its hand a massive seventeen-barreled revolver. Norris jaw dropped because his revolver was only seven-barreled. Mr. Yee recognized this new agent and his stomach dropped into his shoes. Chuck Norris was one thing, but this man was quite another.

"Vincent Valentine! You've returned from the stockyards!" The man stared at Mr. Yee for a moment before pulling the trigger of his revolver and blowing the THE TONBERRY KING'S head right fucking off. He then reached into his pocket and removed a small box.

"Very good my friend, but the good lord knows me as Jeremiah." Mr. Yee's eyes widened as he realized the awful truth.

"You've become one of those born again Christians haven't you?" Jeremiah smiled and from the box withdrew several large nails and a hammer.

"Very good. It usually takes my prey several minutes to discover the origins of my spiritually beliefs. Please pardon me while I crucify you." Mr. Yee was paralyzed with fear. Jeremiah slowly approached the Faggio ™ scooter and, carefully dropping trow, shat on Mr. Yee's face. Even the stench of self-righteous zombie-hybrid feces couldn't shake Mr. Yee from his catatonic state of fear. Chuck Norris looked on from the ruins of the Winnebago with great interest. Jeremiah then dragged the shit-covered Mr. Yee to a large tree and crucified him there, you see. The ritual complete, Jeremiah turned to Chuck Norris.

"My friend, you should exhibit more caution before inserting bottles of grain alcohol into your rectum. You were almost killed by an extremely slow-moving creature." Norris looked between his toes for an answer to the shame that gripped his body, but none came. He had never been cowed before, but this Jeremiah possessed a beautiful power that made him feel like a young boy in a YMCA karate class.

"Right" stammered Norris. Jeremiah sheathed his seventeen-barreled revolver, undid Mr. Yee's trousers and tore off his teeny penis. He tossed the bloody organ to Norris.

"Eat this!" cried Jeremiah. Upon seeing the puzzled look in Norris' eyes, Jeremiah continued on: "By feasting on the dicks of the weak we become the strong. I have fed on the dicks of men such as Hulk Hogan, Richard Nixon, Rufus Shinra and Leo Tolstoy. Feast on the cock of your enemy and yours will grow in turn." Jeremiah whipped out his cock which was roughly the size of a mature pine. It was a force of Christian doom in of itself, a monument to Marvel and in the morning sun it shone like a diamond or a piece of scrap metal. Norris began to weep. He fell to his knees and consumed Mr. Yee's cock. Instantly he felt his own dick grow and he felt stronger. His muscles expanded, his mind sharpened and his desire intensified.

"You have taken the first step" said Jeremiah approvingly, "the next one we will take together. I know why you have come Chuck Norris and I too seek the death of William Blake and of T. Ultrachrist. But you are a stranger to these worlds and require a guide. I shall lead you to the end." Norris smiled his pearly whites and thanked goodness for this new friend.

"Where to Jeremiah?" asked Norris.

"You were right to head to Deling City, though T. Ultrachrist no longer resides there. She has moved into your world and is currently watching the LAPD beat the hell out of Rodney King. But what _is_ in Deling City are the remains of her former husband, Jerome. He has become part man, part robin and part ox. He is known in the city as Mob-Ox and is a creature without intellect. But he has sexual powers that exceed even my own and he may be controlled if we stand together." Jeremiah extended his claw arm to Chuck Norris. "Will you come with me?" The answer was easy for Norris.

"Yes I will. My brother."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter III. Hemmingway Comes Home.

In a parallel universe, Ernest Hemmingway returned home to the attractive two-story, 3 bedroom apartment he rented with Franz Kafka and Sylvia Plath and, taking a moment to find the correct key, stepped through the door. He was dismayed, and not a little sad, to find Franz Kafka fisting a sheep.

"FRANZ!" screamed Hemmingway, "Why do you persist in bestiality?"

"Because it fills the modernist void within my soul." replied Kafka in a bored tone.

"But it fills you with shit!" pleaded Hemmingway, "You haven't written a damn word since you started fisting animals! And all you ever do is fist them and burn them in that damn device of yours! It is obscene!"Kafka paused a moment before answer.

"Sylvia is dead." Hemmingway didn't miss a beat.

"Surprising? I think not. However, you fucking animals is surprising. I want you to stop right now and take a shower." Kafka reluctantly removed his brown and red fist from the anus of the horrified sheep. He moved slowly, slower then perhaps he was, up the stairs and in a few moments Hemmingway heard the sound of the shower turning on.


End file.
